


sink or swim (but don't let me go)

by intangibly_yours



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, FebuWhump2021, Not Beta Read, not always whumpy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intangibly_yours/pseuds/intangibly_yours
Summary: His surrender is a quiet whisper in the sound of her name. [Compilation of Febuwhump entries.]
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 84
Kudos: 68





	1. Mind Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> command me yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: AU  
> Rating: T for sensual biting  
> Pairing: Zelink

“We do not have to do this, Princess,” he says earnestly, kneeling by her side. Her feet are bare, toes peeking out from underneath her nightgown and scrunching against the carpeted floor. Princess Zelda looks down at him, gripping the front of her satin robe and tugging it down against her neck in a nervous tick. The candle light burns low, flickers against the wooden chair of her vanity that she sits upon. Her ears are tinged red in the mirror.

“It’s fine. Just give me a moment.” She takes a few, noticeably deep breaths and bites down on her lip. “I’m just not fond of sharp objects. Learning embroidery was a nightmare for me and I avoid it at all costs if I can help it.”

If she’s trying to joke, she’s more than just nervous.

He frowns. “But you were okay last time?”

“W-Well, we were in a dire situation, and you needed blood fast. I didn’t have time to think about it.” Her cheeks flush at the memory and she fiddles with the waist tie. “Now, it’s so _purposeful_. And—And—”

_Intimate._

Or indecent. All the more reason to not go through with her suggestion.

“It is fine. We can find another way.” Link takes her hand in his and places a kiss on her knuckles. “I would not wish for you to be uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that.” There’s a heat in her stare, but it’s gone as soon as he blinks. She takes hold of his arm, pulling up his right sleeve and brandishing blackened bandages. “And even you said it was an unusual wound. The last time you drank from me, you healed completely.”

“You are special.”

“My _blood_ is special. Blessed by Hylia. Though I find it strange that it blesses you as well.”

“I am a Hylian soldier.”

“You’re my bodyguard. There’s a difference.” He quirks a brow and the corner of her mouth lifts. “You obey only me. And as your princess, I demand we go through with this.” Softer, she adds, “It’s the least I can do.”

She owes him absolutely nothing, but the determined set in her gaze entices him. It causes something in his gut to do a summersault, and he swears if he still had a beating heart, it would be pounding erratically. 

He bows his head in reverence. “Yes, My Princess.”

“But, you know,” she starts, and he looks back up at her curiously. She’s toying with the ends of her hair this time. “If you’re able to, oh I don’t know, _distract_ me somehow, it would be most appreciated.” He can almost visibly see the gears churning in her head, the lightbulb that goes off. “Like that time we met at the bridge and you talked down that boy. I had thought you were merely persuasive, but that wasn’t all, was it?”

He wonders if that means she finds him at least a little bit persuasive.

Clearing his throat, he sighs. “It is a glamor spell. I can make my words sound more appealing. Calm those around me.”

“Fascinating,” she hums, sweeping his hair aside to have a better look at his eyes. He’s very glad he doesn’t need to breathe. “Have you used it on me before?”

Link jerks back immediately, taking her hand in his once again and urging her to believe him when he affirms, “Of course not!”

But Zelda doesn’t appear to care whether he has or not, simply leaning forward as if to tell him a secret. He’s astutely aware of the way her thumb absently strokes the side of his palm. 

“Would you use it on me now?”

His mouth hangs open. Part of him waits for her to announce that she’s just kidding, but the other part suddenly craves the thought of having her under his control. How would she behave once she’s pliant and willing, a slave to his command?

He swallows, hard. “That is ill advised, Your Highness.”

“But not out of the question.” At his wary look, she places a reassuring hand on his cheek. “Please? Just for a bit to ease the anxiety? You have my full permission and no one but us will ever know.”

His hesitation is palpable, and while he looks at everything but her as he thinks it through—the fact that she trusts him enough to relinquish self-control, the opportunity to heal the poisonous wound that has been draining his strength, and his chance to taste her again, sweet and delectable—her stare remains trained on his face.

“ _Please._ ”

His resistance is as fragile to her as a sandcastle is to waves. To be fair, he never had much of a will to oppose her in anything that didn’t involve her safety, and while one could argue that _he_ is the threat, it’s unfathomable to think he can harm her in a way she doesn’t desire. And right now, she desires something in him.

He shuts his eyes and succumbs to the inevitable, interlocking their fingers. “I cannot deny you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, and it burns him the way the sun never can.

He stands, she follows, and he tilts her head up by her chin. Fingers curve around her jaw and underneath her ear, harnessing the vibrant hue of her gaze bright in the candlelight. He doesn’t miss how wide her pupils are before he even speaks, how it darkens her expression into something sultry.

“Zelda,” he says gently, savoring her name without the title, “Yield to me.”

Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into his palm. He takes the opportunity to maneuver her to where he wants—on his lap facing the mirror as he sits where she once was. Tilting her head, he brushes her hair aside to reveal the smooth expanse of her neck, pale and flawless in the moonlight and pulse bounding sweetly. It’s a steady, alluring rhythm; he nearly bites her right then.

Instead, he runs a thumb up and down the length of her throat, chest rumbling pleasantly at the shiver that sweeps down her spine, and let’s his breath warms the tip of her ear. “Allow my touch give you pleasure, my voice to soothe you. No harm will come to you as long as you are with me.”

Her eyes are half-hooded in the mirror, emerald orbs glazed over and unseeing as the collar of her robe slips off her shoulders. His lips find purchase on her bare skin while arms wrap possessively around her waist, fingers dipping under the garb to press into the silk gown. It’s thin, leaves little to the imagination as her breath quickens and her chest heaves, and it takes all his will power to keep his hands flattened to her ribs.

Nosing along her jaw, he meets her gaze through the glass, and senselessly asks, “Do you want this, Zelda?”

She has no choice but to answer yes, but then her hands come up to bury in his hair and guide his lips to where she seems to know he wants. He barely suppresses a groan as her scent consumes him, and sharp teeth sink into yielding flesh. 

Her moan is breathless—takes the shape of his name. She arches away from him but he holds her steady, drinking her slowly and delighting in her taste. Her blood flows smoothly into his mouth, richer than the finest wine and more potent than any healing remedy. The cut on his forearm closes, his energy replenishes, and he knows he will be unable to taste another after this. For her only will his body want. For her only, he will hunger. 

Within his arms, she trembles, but she trembles in a manner that has the borrowed blood boiling underneath his flesh. Her body is warm, cheeks flushed, lips parted with panting breaths and whimpers that heightens his desire in forbidden ways. He could take all of her now and she wouldn’t fight it. Might even spur him on with one of her mischievous smiles. But it wouldn’t be truly her, and he wants her vibrant beneath his touch should she ever give in.

So he tempers it all; burns this image of her into memory in exchange.

Her hold on him slackens, and he takes it as a sign to relent. Withdrawing his bite, he laps at the wound until it seals under the pressure of his tongue. The remaining mark is small yet noticeable, though nothing her high-collared dresses can’t conceal, and leaves him feeling rather pleased. Perhaps it will deter anyone who might think her a prospect. 

Zelda sags in his arms, head falling back onto his shoulder and pupils seeking his. He tucks a loose strand behind her ear, asks, “How are you feeling?” and winces when it takes her two tries to formulate words.

“Hot. Tired.”

Nodding, Link loops one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, carrying her to the bed without preamble. He eases her under the sheets, taking her robe when she struggles to shrug it off, and blows out the candle once she appears settled in. “You need rest. I will make sure to tell the maids not to wake you so early tomorrow.”

He is halfway to her door when he hears her. A voice so soft it’s barely audible, yet it somehow resounds loudly in his ear. “ _Link_.”

It’s just his name, but it vibrates violently through him, churning what he just promised to memory into something much more present. She’s angled to him when he obediently turns back, one hand reaching out across her covers as if to beckon him closer. “Won’t you stay?”

He shouldn’t—he’s overstayed his welcome already, done so much to her _already_ —but she’s limp and exhausted, unlikely to be able to move on her own for several hours, so perhaps he should oblige for her safety.

She doesn’t mean what he wants her to mean anyway.

“Yes, Princess.”

As he settles into a chair by her bedside, her voice still echoes in his mind, and he wonders who is actually the one controlling the other.


	2. "I can't take it anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: BotW AU  
> Rating: G  
> Pairing: Zelink  
> Warning: Fluff

Zelda thinks she has loved Link all her life.

They met for the first time when she was five and he was seven, both clinging to the trousers of their fathers. It was a playdate of sorts, likely just something to keep them distracted as they went about adult matters. Kids were few in the castle, so she relished in having a friend to play with. They instantly set upon a game of tag.

At five, however, her gross motor skills were not as good as his, and she ran into a pedestal when she rounded a corner. It shook, horrifyingly so, and from the top tumbled an antique vase. It shattered on the ground in one of the most deafening sounds she had ever heard. 

Terrified, she hid behind Link, knowing that his presence would only hold off the inevitable scolding for so long. But when their fathers came rushing out, demanding what happened, he stepped forward and took the blame. She tried to protest, but he merely brought a finger to his lips and discreetly shook his head. How foolish, this boy was—surely punishment for a princess was more lenient than a knight’s son—but it warmed her heart in appreciation nonetheless.

Zelda has long since realized her appreciation had morphed into something else as they grew older. By ten, she was clearly infatuated. By fifteen, she was head over heels in love. Now seventeen with her next birthday fast approaching, she has come to terms that she had, and will only ever have, eyes for him. He could ask for her hand in marriage at any time, and she would say yes.

Sadly, she doesn’t know how he feels about her. After Link drew the Master Sword at twelve, he became rather withdrawn. Rising through the ranks to become a royal guard member and then her very own appointed knight, he was the epitome of what a Goddess Chosen Hero should be—silent, stoic, powerful. She thought he had merely wanted to be a pillar of support for the people, so she studied hard with her mother to control her powers too, but even after the defeat of Calamity Ganon, his mask never slipped. She fears what she feels for him is truly one-sided.

Six months. Zelda has been given six months to find herself a suitor, or else her parents will choose for her. While she wouldn’t call herself discreet exactly—both her mother and Urbosa are quite aware of her favoritism towards her knight—she is a far cry from the other women who fawn over him. Her displays of affection included holding onto his arm, sometimes interlacing their hands, and leaning against his shoulders to watch the clouds on clear, sunny days. She knows he sees her as a friend, and a close one at that if the way he stays up with her to stave off nightmares is any indication, but not once has he shown any signs of being attracted to her. The most expressive he’s ever gotten is his curious gaze when she does her experiments and the gentle smile on his face during private moments.

So when they’re out shopping in Castle Town and she watches some pretty redhead intimately lean in and whisper in his ear, it’s no surprise that something in Zelda _cracks_. Not because the girl is all over him—women throw themselves at him constantly—but because for once, his façade breaks. His eyes widen, his face flushes, and his mouth opens to stammer something she can’t hear. Twelve years, she’s known him, and in the last seven, she hasn’t been able to draw that reaction out of him once.

Even worse, the girl obviously leaves a lasting impression on him. For the entirety of their walk home, he’s different. His gaze is distracted and no longer burns into her, and that flush is ever present. For Hylia’s sake, he almost walks into a _wall_ with his inattentiveness! Her hope for his reciprocating feelings plummets exponentially.

When they arrive at her room, she stops right outside of it. He gives her a questioningly look, but she braces herself for one last ditch effort. What’s another few minutes of humiliation after years of constant pining?

Zelda looks him square in the eyes, grabs fistfuls of his surcoat, and smashes her lips against his. It lasts all of two seconds before they’re arms length apart again, and her reward is Link’s shocked expression, mouth slightly agape.

And that’s it. No blush. No words. Just an incredulous stare. Zelda thought she might have built some resistance over the years, but her heart shatters like the vase she broke when she was five. 

Eyes downcasted and hands clasped harshly together, she says, “My apologies, Sir Link. I have been foolish,” and shuts the door behind her. 

The next day, she tells her parents she’s ready to accept suitors. They’re shocked but they acquiesce, and Zelda mentally prepares herself for a life without Link.

It’s terrible because even six months later, she can still recall the warmth of his lips against her own. 

* * *

Link thinks it was love at first sight.

Which isn’t saying much when you’re seven years old and meeting the Princess of Hyrule, but when you’re nineteen and that pounding in your chest has only amplified when she’s around, it’s the equivalent of a death sentence. 

Because he’s a knight, and princesses don’t fall in love with knights.

Never mind that he’s the Hero that slayed the Calamity. What is a hero in the presence of a Goddess? He is and will always be beneath her, and he would never drag her down to his level, nor could it even possibly be allowed. He accepted this fact long ago, and then unwisely chose to stay by her side despite the yearning clawing at his chest. Zelda is his beacon of light, beautiful and spirited, incandescent on the inside and out. Death itself couldn’t tear him from her.

But marriage—marriage is a different matter, and Link dreaded her coming of age ball. To watch her replace him as a partner, to have her laugh and raise children with another...He rather be on the receiving end of a Yiga’s sickle.

So when Malon cornered him at the market one day, whispering in his ears that perhaps the very princess that haunted his dreams might actually feel the same for him (“I see how she looks at you,” she said slyly), he didn’t know how to respond. Even worse, he couldn’t look at Zelda without a blush erupting across his face. Did he really have a chance with her? Was she really in love with him too?

But that was six months ago. Six months ago, Zelda kissed him in front of her room, and nothing has been the same since. 

They still spend much of their time together—he’s still her appointed knight, after all—but there’s an added space between them, both physically and metaphorically. She stands further away now, hardly looks at him when she talks, and those private moments in the field with her head on his shoulder no longer occur. He can’t make sense of her actions and she refuses to talk about it. Maybe she had been curious, and then simply lost interest in him. Or worse. Maybe she did love him, and realized it was an impossible match. 

Regardless, there’s a hole where her light had been, and he doesn’t know how to mend it.

But after tonight, he may never be able to. Tonight is her suitor’s ball, and tomorrow, she’ll be betrothed to another. What will he do then?

Link watches from the sidelines as Zelda switches from the arms of one suitor to another, twirling in her navy gown and looking every bit a mixture of princess and Goddess. For months, he acted as a chaperone as other men pursued her hand, making sure none of them got too handsy and reveling in the way she never took a liking to any of them. Rightfully so too; they all saw her as a means to an end and not the brilliant scholar that she is. But who she likes doesn’t matter as much now; it’s all about who is the lesser evil. Frankly, none of them deserve her.

“If you glare any harder, you might set the poor guy on fire, Son.”

Link glances to his right to see his father stepping in line with him. They’re both sporting the same royal guard uniform, finely pressed and tucked neatly as proper for escorts of the crown. His father nudges him lightly on the shoulder. “You should ask her to dance.”

He jolts back, a furious blush staining his cheeks. “What? I can’t. The only ones dancing with her are those asking for her hand.”

His father's grin is shameless. “And do you not want to do the same?” 

“I—” The practiced denial is on the tip of his tongue, but it’s the end of the line now, and the look he’s getting tells him it’s futile. “—I do.”

Wrapping an arm around him, his father sighs. “How long have you known Princess Zelda?”

His answer is instant. “For twelve years.”

“And at any point in time, have I or either of our royal monarchs try to separate you from her?”

Link swallows, hope stupidly budding in his chest. “No.”

“Has the Princess ever ordered you away?”

“No.”

“Then…?”

“We’re just friends,” he says, insists. Because once he gets it into his head that he can actually have her, he may never let her go.

“You’re not ‘just friends’ if you’re hoping to marry her, Son.” His father shakes his head, exasperated. “Link, take some advice from your old man. Just ask her.”

And before Link can even respond, his father pushes him into the crowd and towards the Princess.

He only barely stumbles before regaining his bearings, straightening his surcoat and making sure his cap isn’t skewed. Zelda, luckily, is not dancing with a suitor, but rather conversing with Urbosa, and he momentarily reconsiders interrupting.

That is, until he sees Prince Argus approaching the two. Much to Link’s disdain, Prince Argus is the highest contender for the Princess’s hand, being the only royalty on the list. Hyrule isn’t in need of any political powers, but allies are always beneficial to have. Even he can’t argue with that.

But he has seen how Prince Argus treats and speaks about Zelda. He never actually listens to her talk, doesn’t even bother trying to understand her research, and constantly brags to others about who his new wife will be like she’s some prize to be won. It’s utterly revolting—Zelda isn’t a trophy to be showcased. 

So Link’s feet move before he even registers it, and just as Prince Argus extends a hand to Zelda, he grabs her by the waist and spins her so that she’s looking at only him.

“Link?” she gasps, eyes filled with wonderment. It’s the most honest expression he’s seen on her in months.

“Dance with me?” 

She glances back at Urbosa, who merely nods, and then says, “I’d love to.”

They both ignore the prince staring incredulously at them.

He leads her in a waltz, slow and steady, mesmerized by her close proximity and being able to hold her again. It’s Zelda who taught him these steps long ago, and he refined them at home by practicing with his mother. He’s glad the lessons have paid off.

Midway through the song, he feels her grip tighten in his hand, and he nearly panics at how her brows suddenly furrow.

“Zelda?”

“You know, Link,” she starts, but her gaze is set firmly over his shoulder, “People could get the wrong idea with you asking me to dance.”

“How so?”

Oh, she’s glaring at him now. “ _Because_. This is a suitor’s ball. The people trying to dance with me are also trying to marry me.”

It’s his moment of truth, which comes sooner than he had hoped, not that he intended to pursue her tonight. But his time is running out. She has to pick.

“I know that,” he says, drawing her closer. She doesn’t resist him; allows herself to be pressed to his chest. He can feel her heart beating against his sternum. “And I’m tired of seeing other people vying for your hand. What would I do if I lost my best friend?”

She scoffs, pulling away. “Your _best friend_ —”

“I love you.”

Zelda freezes midstep. Looks up at him with some mixture of shock and longing. “As...As a friend?”

He just chuckles, finding her astonishment endearing. Whether consciously or not, she has gripped him tighter, fingers digging into his shoulder and hand. He feels silly for not doing this sooner. “As someone who wants to spend the rest of his life with you.”

“But Link—”

But nothing, because he kisses her. And unlike their first kiss, he holds her there, relishing in her warmth and pulling her impossibly closer when her arms wind around his neck.

“Anything,” he breathes against her lips, “Everything. I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as I get to stay by your side.” And then, just for good measure, he places a kiss beneath her ear. “But preferably, your husband.”

“Yes,” she whispers immediately, tears welling up in her eyes, and then tugs him in for another kiss. “Absolutely. Yes!” 

He thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

Distantly, he hears Urbosa say, “It’s about time!” around the same time his father shouts, “That’s my boy!” Finally, the King and Queen announces him as Zelda’s betrothed, and several approving murmurs call them a match made by Hylia. Perhaps everyone had been waiting for this official proclamation.

Link simply shrugs it all off and doesn’t stop kissing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't flame me for the fluff, okay?? I'm already ashamed.


	3. Imprisonment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (at first sight) you were the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: AU  
> Rating: G  
> Pairing: Zelink

“What did you do?”

Link glances up from his spot on the dirt floor. Here, in the cells beneath Hyrule castle, the bars are unyielding, the ground unforgiving, and the draft blowing in bitter and cold. His clothes have been reduced to tattered rags and shoes taken altogether. He must look like a hollow of a man.

“I killed someone,” he croaks, voice unfamiliar to his own ears. “A soldier.”

“Why?”

A young woman, partially hidden by shadows and a cloak, looks back at him from the other side of those goddess forsaken bars. He feels her gaze on the metal chains strapped around his ankles and wrists, but doesn’t care for the pity she must be feeling. He has long learned to ignore the ache of their weight.

“He—” A cough tears through his throat, sending him doubling over. He thinks he hears her gasp. “—He tried to assault my sister. And then he tried to kill us both.” He adds softly, like it matters, “I didn’t have a choice.”

Silence. Then, “That’s very brave of you.”

He looks at her then, _really_ looks at her. From beneath her hood, he sees golden locks draping over her shoulders and curling near her breasts. The cloak she wears is plain, but unmistakably well-made, the symbol of the Triforce delicately embroidered in dark thread. Pale skin shimmer against the dim light of the sconces, but her emerald eyes pierce brilliantly through the darkness.

The breath seizes in his lungs. He’s only seen her from afar—from the crowds during a parade or below the parapets during announcements—but there is no one in this kingdom that wouldn’t recognize her.

And she is beautiful, this up close. 

He folds forward on his knees, forehead pillowed on his hands. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Please forgive me, Pr—”

“Shh, Link. We must not draw attention.”

Before he can fully register that she knows his name, he hears the lock click and the door creaking open. In her hands dangle a set of keys.

“Why?” he whispers, redirecting her earlier question back to her. She doesn’t answer at first, quietly working on the cuffs at his ankle and then the ones on his wrists. Shuffling them aside as noiselessly as she can, she grabs his hands and hauls him to his feet.

Her touch is soft and warm. It sends blood rushing to his face in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Just before she exits the cell, one hand still gripping his, she turns and shoots him a small smile.

“Because you might be the one to save us all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ideas for a sequel but we shall see.


	4. Impaling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when time runs (out)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: AU  
> Rating: T for violence/gore, character deaths/suicide  
> Pairing: I mean Zelink but—

He hates how pale she is, how the vibrancy of her skin has turned to an ashen blue. Dark lines comb up her throat and across her face, framing empty pupils and eyes devoid of color. In her right hand, she wields her rapier streaked in red. On his left side, he nurses a wound.

It hurts to breathe.

“Zelda!” he shouts, throat raw from screaming and blade dragging on the ground, “Zelda, you have to break through his control. I can’t—” the Master Sword trembles in his grip. Or maybe it’s him that’s shaking “—I can’t fight you. I won’t hurt you!”

“Pathetic Hero,” she taunts, but the voice that speaks is not hers. Ganondorf’s gruff laugh resounds instead. “If you want the power to win, you’ll have to destroy wisdom as well.”

“Leave her, you fiend!” His sword swings but it freezes inches from her neck. Ganondorf cackles and slams an elbow into his shoulder. Link gives under the weight, falling to one knee before lunging back at her. Neither she nor Ganondorf seem to bother dodging as he pins her down. “Zelda, _please_ wake up!”

Something flickers in her eyes—miniscule but there—before her hand locks around his neck. Nails break into skin, tearing half moon gashes into his flesh and staining her fingertips red. He can’t loosen her grip without releasing his.

And then a miracle happens. She rips her hand away and shoves him off. Zelda lets out an anguished scream, clawing at her face and gasping for breath.

“Get out,” she snarls, Triforce glowing on the back of her hand. It shimmers up her arm and ebbs at the dark marks on her skin until Ganondorf’s roar thunders across the room. The lines come alive like deadly serpents seeking to swallow her whole—whipping wildly before encasing her in a ribbon of black. The grip on her rapier tightens.

She flies forward and he barely manages to deflect her attack. They’ve sparred enough for him to predict her steps, but combined with a demon’s force and heavy strikes, he finds himself backed into a wall. For the first time since he’s become a knight, he’s uncertain of his victory.

But part of him knows that’s not true. He’s the best swordsman in Hyrule, and Ganondorf only possessed the Queen when he couldn’t defeat Link himself. It’s _because_ it’s Zelda that he can’t bring himself to win. A triumph now would be at the cost of her life.

What is the point of having this stupid triangle if he can’t save her?

He guards against another attack, stumbling back into a corner and ducking from another slash. A well aimed punch to her stomach sends her launching back but not before she lands a swipe on his shoulder. He doubles forward with a grunt, gripping the wound to stunt the bleed, and freezes when steel grazes his neck.

“Any last words, Hero?” Ganondorf’s voice permeates gleefully. “If your weakness had not been so obvious, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Link clutches desperately onto the Sword. “Even if you take me down, she’ll never let you succeed.”

“You’re a fool. This battle has been won.”

He squeezes his eyes shut against the inevitable.

_Link, don’t give up._

The rapier clatters to the ground and Ganondorf is screaming. Link looks up to see bright lights seeping between the possessive marks. Zelda’s grayish-blue eyes are gazing at him.

“I will not be able to hold him off for long,” she says, but there is an ethereal quality to her voice. “Hero of Hyrule, you know what you must do.”

He shakes his head, slamming the Master Sword into the ground and hauling himself up. “I can’t do that. I _won’t_ do that to you!”

“Hyrule is in danger—”

“—We can find another way!”

“ _There is no time._ ”

As if on cue, a black haze surrounds her and the light weakens. A pained yelp rips through her as the dark particles seem to seep into her pores. Something chilling tells him the possession this time will be more permanent. 

“Link,” she says softly through gritted teeth, “You can’t let Hyrule fall.”

He clutches the hilt the tighter, still shaking his head.

“Link,” she says again, “I don’t want to be his puppet anymore.”

His resolve cracks at her expression, at the helplessness he has never before seen her display. She had always been careful of how she presented herself, to the extent that some called her an emotionless queen. Even he saw only rare glimpses of her true feelings. 

And now she is practically begging him to kill her.

“Zelda, I can’t—“

The dark strips come to life, sinking into her flesh. She crumples to the ground as an agonized scream tears from her throat.

“Hurry!”

Link delves the Master Sword into her chest.

The haze dissipates in an ear piercing screech as Ganondorf’s soul vanishes into thin air. Zelda falls limp in his arms, black lines unraveling to reveal the paleness of her skin again. To his horror, the color drains quickly from her face. 

He begs her to hold on but she just smiles at him, mouthing _thank you_ before her eyes slip shut. He holds her close—whispers _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_ until his voice gives way.

And then, picking up her rapier, he plunges it into his own heart.

The sky cries that night.

_Oh Hero, what have you done?_


	5. "Take me instead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: AU  
> Rating: G  
> Pairing: Zelink technically  
> Warning: Nothing really. A bit of manhandling.

Zelda clenches her teeth together, trying to keep still as her sister kneels in the frigid waters of the Spring of Power. Known for it’s tranquility, the spring is enclosed by scattered waterfalls and garnished with thriving greenery. A lone Goddess statue sits at the very center, marking it as a holy destination, yet the peaceful surroundings are sullied by the purpose of their visit. She finds the whole situation to be rather satirical.

Soldiers flank all sides of the spring, and their father, the King, stands right beside her. Adelaide, just shy of her eighteenth birthday, is dressed in all white, bodice tight and sleeveless with a train that trails endlessly behind her. Zelda had always hoped that her darling little sister would marry for love, that she would be able to witness a joyful union even if she herself was not permitted one. Yet, by some irony, the traditions that forced the eldest to marry for political gains has saved her from becoming the very sacrifice her sister is now subjected to. 

Adelaide shivers as the sky darkens and the air becomes colder. The flower crown atop her head skews in the wind and goosebumps alight on her skin. She clutches her bouquet tighter, a quiet whimper failing to be suppressed, but keeps her gaze straight ahead. Zelda yearns to embrace her, to reassure her that everything will be alright, yet how can she, knowing her fate?

Every one thousand years, a maiden from Hyrule is sacrificed to the Demon King. The eldest princess is always exempt in order to carry out the duties of the crown, but to appease the people and remain just, subsequent royal daughters may be offered. Every female born in the last twenty years has their name entered into a magical registry, and on the first day of that thousandth year, a name is picked. The odds had not been in their favor this time. Though it is selfish on her behalf, Zelda wishes another name, _any_ other name, had been drawn. 

Gray clouds gather, a roll of thunder roaring in. The water bubbles menacingly in a reddish glow and the ground quakes as if it will split beneath their feet. Adelaide lets out a shriek and the guards have to hold Zelda back from sprinting to her.

The spring fizzes more, and from the surface emerges a man—no, a _demon_. His skin is dark like the ashes of Death Mountain, hair a flaming orange-red like fire. Large horns sprout from either side of his head and a pointed tail whips to and fro behind him. He towers over them all, a king amongst kings. 

“I am Ganondorf, King of the Demon world,” his gruff voice booms, shaking the very foundations of the spring, “I am here for the bride.”

His gleaming eyes of ember zone in on Adelaide, who squeaks and collapses into the water, hands bracing feebly over her head—a futile effort in the face of a monster. Ganondorf hauls her up by the arm, and she _screams_.

“No! No! I don’t want this! _Please_ let me go!”

The demon pays no heed to the cries, easily dragging her back to where he sprung as if she isn’t in the least resisting. Adelaide glances back—at the soldiers, at the King, at _her_ —fear and helplessness etched on her face, and Zelda breaks.

“Take me instead!”

She flings herself away from the guards, grabbing her sister by the waist and extracting her from Ganondorf’s grip. Zelda puts on the bravest face she can muster as she nudges Adelaide behind her.

“Take me instead,” she repeats, “I will be your bride in place of my sister.”

Zelda keeps her expression firm, and the Demon King stares back, seemingly debating whether or not she will be a worthy replacement. He gives her a once over, puts a hand to his chin and scrutinizes her face. All the while, she holds her breath.

Thankfully, he nods, but her relief is short lived.

“Yes. I think you will do just fine.” A sinister smile stretches across his lips and something awful churns in her gut. “Just fine indeed.”

As if to ensure there will be no more change in plans, she’s tossed over his shoulder like a rag. In the background, the soldiers are whispering under their breaths and her father and sister are screeching her name, but the pounding of her heart nearly drowns them out. Ganondorf steps into a fiery circle, and the last thing she sees of Hyrule is the Goddess statue.

Satirical, indeed. Perhaps her family has been forsaken.

They’re in the eye of an inferno as they sink into the ground, and then Zelda feels like she’s being thrown in all directions. First up then down, then side to side. Her breakfast threatens to empty itself from her stomach. 

When they land it’s with a sickening jolt. Ganondorf places her on the ground and she heaves onto the floor. Unfortunately, nothing regurgitates. She would’ve loved to dirty his fine grounds.

Looking up, she’s surprised to see where she is. It’s a throne room, but unlike the dark spires and jagged stones as she would’ve expected to find in a demon’s lair, there are pristine tiled floors and ornate pillars. Black and red curtains drape the windows and some kind of lavished marble make up the railings. Frankly speaking, it is not so different from the interior of Hyrule castle. 

“I hope you’ll find our palace to your liking, Princess,” Ganondorf says, gesturing with his hand.

Zelda glares up at him disdainfully, eyes full of defiance. She hopes he hears her spite. “Is this where we shall marry?” 

To her surprise, the Demon King releases a loud chortle, voice reverberating across the high ceilings. “Oh no! My bride has long passed on. You are here to marry my son.”

Her brow twitches. “Your...son?”

“Yes. Though I must apologize, he is a bit...unsocial.” He turns to the doors. “Link! Come meet your bride!”

There is a long silence before she hears footsteps clattering down the hall. The large metal doors burst open, and a young man paces through, book in hand.

Zelda is speechless. This Link is around her height, skin and hair fair like hers—he looks nothing at all like the Demon King. The only resemblances are the small horns on either side of his head and the tail that whips behind him.

Link lowers his book. Bright, piercing sapphire eyes gaze back at her. The traitorous organ in her chest skips a beat. 

And then he sighs, as if meeting her is a chore. “So you’re the unlucky one?”

Zelda thinks she might want to punch him.


	6. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: Modern AU  
> Rating: G  
> Pairing: Zelink of course

**hero_of_the_wild signed on at 1:25:54 AM.  
xSilentPrincessx signed on at 2:07:32 AM.  
hero_of_the_wild: **can’t sleep?  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** Nah. What else is new?  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** same  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** i can fall asleep on my calc textbook midday but not on my bed at 2AM apparently  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** it sucks  
 **xSilentPrincessx** : haha yeah. I finished my 12 page paper at 10 and have been lying in bed since.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** yikes. your one of those valedictorian gung hoers aren’t ya?  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** You’re*  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** I make good grades. So what?  
 **xSilentPrincessx** : It’s not without effort.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** theres nothing wrong with that! theres a girl in my class like you. I dont know how she does it.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** its mindboggling. kinda cool  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** Cool? That’s new. Not sure that’s what I would call it.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** well im calling it cool. so your cool.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** You’re*  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** You’re learning! I appreciate it.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** i appreciate you  
 **hero_of_the_wild** : i mean  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** im glad theres someone else around to talk to  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** Yeah. Same.  
 _ **xSilentPrincessx** is typing…  
_ **xSilentPrincessx:** I wish we went to the same school. It would be nice. There aren’t...many people I can talk to so casually.  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** So yeah. Thank you to you too.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** eh. it might be better this way. you might not like me in person.  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** That’s impossible! You’ve been such a good friend. I would love to meet you.  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** You know. Someday.  
 _ **hero_of_the_wild** is typing…_  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** yea. one day.  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** it is getting late. you should get some sleep. a princess needs her beauty sleep right? lol  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** Shut up.  
 **xSilentPrincessx:** This princess doesn’t know what sleep is.  
 **hero_of_the_wild** : youre still pretty  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** im sure  
 **hero_of_the_wild:** gn  
 **hero_of_the_wild signed off at 2:43:25 AM.**

Link closed the application and breathed a sigh of relief. He almost slipped up there, for a moment. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was for xSilentPrincessx to know who he was. She might never speak to him again. 

After all, he considered it himself, when he found out.

Tucking himself under the covers, he prayed he could squeeze in some sleep before the alarm went off.

Link rubbed his eyes as he trudged through the hallway the next morning. He managed a little over three hours before he had to get up and catch the bus. Having chosen Hyrule’s only art school to finish his secondary education, the routes were long and quiet as kids caught an extra hour of sleep before the bus pulled into the parking lot.

Just as he turned the corner, his shoulder collided into another’s. Long, blonde hair fluttered in his vision before he instinctively reached out to steady her by the elbow.

And then immediately let go.

Princess Zelda Bosphoramous Hyrule stumbled slightly before regaining her bearings, then straightened her stack of books and papers before flashing him a small smile. Her collared dress swayed slightly at her knees, light and springy in a way she never allowed herself to be.

“Thank you…”—her brows furrowed prettily—“Link? Am I right?”

He gave a minute nod.

“Yes, well. I’ll see you in calc then?”

Managing to find his voice this time, he stuttered, “Yes, Princess Zelda.”

“Zelda is fine,” she said politely, though something bit at the edge. 

He waited until she was down the hall before pulling out his slate and selecting his chat with xSilentPrincessx. His message to her was short.

_i hope your day goes well_

Distantly, there was a familiar chime. Unable to resist, he lounged against the wall, watching from the corner of his eye as Princess Zelda paused to retrieve her slate from her bag. She balanced it and her books with a refined grace, neither hesitating nor fumbling in ways anyone else surely would have. Fingers flew across the screen to unlock it, and another smile, one more genuine and soft, stretched across her lips. His heart leapt into his throat.

She typed a message, then shoved the slate back in her bag, expression schooled to her usual stoicism before she continued down the hall. All along the way, the other students stopped to stare, but none spoke to her. Three months since her transfer here and she was still a novelty to them.

He sighed, shaking his head. In his hands, the slate vibrated and brightened with a notification: _1 New Message._

He opened it with a swipe of his thumb.

_Thanks! Goddess knows I need it. I’m already running into people all over the place! Ready for the day to be over._

His grip tightened on the device and he gnawed at his lower lip. If only he could talk to her in person like he could through the anonymity of his screen name. But he was just another student in this small school, and Princess Zelda would never willingly speak to him without cause. The only reason she knew his name was because they shared several classes together.

Taking a breath, he kept his response simple.

_same_

Almost instantly, she replied: _Talk to you during lunch?_

_Yes_ , he began to type out, then deleted. _Of course_ , he tried, but for some reason, it didn’t fit. _Always_ , he finalized, and if she ended up thinking him charmed by her, she wouldn’t be wrong.


	7. Hostage Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Universe: Modern AU  
> Rating: T for threat of violence  
> Pairing: Kinda Zelink
> 
> Heavily inspired by and based on _The Negotiation_ , starring Son Ye-jin and Hyun Bin.

“Why don’t we start by introducing ourselves? My name is Link. Link Forester.”

She warily eyes the man on the screen. He’s in a white button-up and black slacks, hair neatly combed back despite the dilapidated warehouse he’s in. On his left wrist is an Isha original topaz watch. Whatever he wants, it’s not money .

“Zelda,” she says curtly, glad that her fidgeting hands are out of the frame. “What can I help you with, Mr. Forester?”

He smirks. “Come on now, full rank and name.”

There isn’t much in the room he’s in, from what she can see. Or rather, what he’s allowing her to see. A pile of trash in the corner, some pipes against the wall, a corner of the table he’s using, and the chair he’s lounging on. 

“Inspector Zelda Bosphoramus of the Hyrule Police Crisis Negotiation Team.”

“And you’re the best they’ve got?”

He’s confident—that much is apparent with his relaxed appearance. His collar is unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up. On his feet are a pair of flip flops. He clearly doesn’t think he’ll be found, not anytime soon at least.

She just nods. “I am one of the negotiators, yes.”

Link leans forward onto his knees, hands clasped. “They kept talking about how hot you are, but honestly? I’ve seen better.” Lazing back, he drapes an arm over the chair. “What are your measurements? You know, like chest, waist, hi—”

The call ends.

Immediately, the agency bustles.

“What just happened?”

“Where did he go?”

“Did we lose connection? Did he hang up?”

Calmly, Zelda says, “I did, sir.”

Revali Ruzgar, Presidential Secretary for National Security, turns on his heels and stares at her incredulously. “Are you out of your mind, Ms. Bosphoramus?”

“He’ll call back,” she affirms, swiveling in her chair to meet his eyes. “But I need to know what’s going on in order to respond to the situation.”

Revali scoffs. “Such impudence—”

“He’s calling back!”

There’s no audible ring, but an incoming call message pops up on the large screen. No avatar is used but _Link Forester_ flashes beneath. It’s like he’s mocking her for how little she knows.

“Pick it up,” Revali demands, but at the same time, Zelda urges, “Don’t! We can’t let him lead the negotiations!”

His glare is on her instantly. “You _will_ answer the call.”

Behind him, Superintendent Impa Orphne sighs. “Pick it up, Ms. Bosphoramus. I will fill you in after.”

She narrows her eyes and reluctantly takes the call. Link is on the screen for a split second, looking somewhat amused, before she says, “I have some important business to take care of, so please call back in a bit,” and hangs up again. 

Standing, she marches up to her two superiors. “I can’t properly do my job if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

They share a look. Impa starts first. “Ms. Bosphoramus, the situation is very delicate. There is only so much we can sha—”

“He’s calling again!”

Both Impa and Revali stare at her expectantly, but she holds her ground. Revali grunts, “Get someone else.”

Impa hesitates, but ultimately nods. “Paya, take the call.”

Zelda looks on curiously as the girl named Paya fumbles with her headset. “M-Me?”

“ _Now_ , Paya.”

The girl scrambles to the call room, seating herself where Zelda was before, and shakily presses the green button. “H-Hi, I’m Paya Orphne o-of Hyrule’s Foreign Investigation Divi-Divi...sion.”

To say Link appeared aggravated is an understatement. Before Paya had even finished her introduction, he stood from his chair and swiveled the camera to face a different corner of the room. A person—a woman—kneeled on the floor with a ragged bag over her head.

Link tugs the bag off and long, red hair spills out.

“Captain Nabooru!”

Zelda jolts, as does everyone else in the room. Nabooru is her direct superior, the very person in charge of their district. She’s the one who hired Zelda, who refused her resignation just a few days before. They had spoken face-to-face then. _How_ , in such a short time?

“You all seem to think I’m playing games. Hey, give me that.” A third person comes on screen, hands him a gun, and smiles cheekily at them before disappearing off screen. It’s an old fashioned revolver, which Link empties except for one cylinder, and aims at Nabooru.

Nabooru shrieks, sound muffled by the restraint around her mouth. Paya barely keeps her composure as she pushes out from her seat. “M-Mr. Forester! We haven’t—we haven’t even started yet. S-Surely, you needn’t result to such—”

He pulls the trigger.

The whole room releases a breath when nothing happens, and Link just laughs. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Captain Nabooru!”

Zelda rushes back into the room. Paya nods at her gratefully and scrambles back to her post. Situating herself back in front of the screen, Zelda tries to get his attention. “Mr. Forester, please don’t—”

Link doesn’t even look at her. Instead, he toys with the gun, as if inspecting if it’s broken. Pointing it towards the window, he clicks the trigger several times.

“Mr. Forester—”

_BANG._

She jumps, but he doesn’t even react. “It’s good to have you back, Zelda. You know, it’s rather rude to hang up on someone, no matter how busy you are.”

Her mouth goes dry. “I-I’m sorry about that. But perhaps you could extend some manners to us as well? We haven’t even discussed any terms yet.”

He trills the bullets between his fingers, reloading them into the gun. “I like you, but you’re not really in the position to be making demands.”

“You don’t even know me,” she counters, not sure why she suddenly fixates on that detail. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Don’t I, Zelda?” It unnerves her how he says her name. “Your captain here could hardly stop talking about you. Told me you’re brilliant, passionate. The best at your job.”

“I’m flattered, but that’s an over exaggeration.”

He chuckles. “Humble, too. Or are you trying to make me let my guard down?”

She swallows, searching for a way to do just that. Anything to keep him from pointing the gun at Nabooru again. “64, 35, 25, 36.”

“What?”

“The answer to your question earlier.”

“Oh! Your measurements.” He runs a hand through his hair, a smirk pulling at his lips. “That uniform isn’t doing you any favors then.”

“Good thing I don’t wear it out on dates.”

Unfortunately, this causes him to turn back to Nabooru. “Hey Captain, I think I _really_ like her. Should I cancel all this and take her out for a drink instead?”

Nabooru just looks at him helplessly, so she jumps in. “I would agree. If you asked me.”

He inclines his head towards her. “So then, you and me?”

“Of course. Wherever you want to go.”

Link glances down at the gun. Twirls it in his hand. Then he stares back at the screen, cerulean eyes bright and sharp as if he can see right through her. “But first, you should know something. I don’t like lies, Zelda. They make me very angry.”

It takes her more effort than she’d ever admit to keep her expression flat.

“Of course. That’s very understandable.”

“So. I would like to ask you a question, and it’s imperative that you’re completely honest with me. Is that clear?”

The sweat perspiring on her neck drips down and under the collar of her shirt. Her hands are clammy, breaths shallow. She can’t take her sights off the revolver.

“Yes.”

“Who is there with you right now?”

Her eyes instinctively dart to her surroundings, at the people watching their exchange. Revali and Impa share a few words, then Impa says something to Paya.

Returning her gaze to screen, she tries to imitate a friendly smile. “I would appreciate it if you put the gun away first, Mr. Forester. It’s difficult to speak under such pressures.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”

“If it’s true honesty that you seek, then I deem it necessary.” When he looks unconvinced, she adds, “Please.”

His Cheshire grin is immediate. “How can I say no to such puppy dog eyes? Really pulling out the big guns there, Zelda. No pun intended.”

Link hands the revolver off to a lacky and settles comfortably in front of the camera. Despite his relaxed display, his tone is serious. “Now, tell me who’s with you.”

At the bottom of her monitor, a message displays: _Don’t tell him Secretary Ruzgar is here._

“Chief Paya Orphne of Foreign Investigations—”

“Ah, the earlier lady.”

“—Superintendent Impa Orphne—”

“Shouldn’t there be a rule against family working together?”

Zelda grits her teeth. “—and a few other agents, including Investigator Daruk Stones, who shares an office with me. I don’t know who the rest of the officers are.”

He tilts his head to the side, looking deceptively docile. “No one else higher up?”

“Nobody higher than the superintendent. She is calling all the shots.”

Suddenly, Link stands, scraping the chair across the floor as he slides it closer to the table. Straddling it backwards, he stares straight into the camera, smile ominous.

“Zelda.”

She gulps. “Yes?”

“Look at me.”

“I am.”

He studies her for a moment, those azure eyes racking her image for any miniscule details he can find.

“No lies, Zelda,” he says, “You promised.” 

She manages a minute nod, doing her best to hold his gaze steady, and he releases a low chuckle. 

“Alright, it’s time for us to eat over here. I will call back with my request once we’re done.”

Link shifts to end the call and Zelda jumps out of her seat. “Mr. Forester!”

He clicks his tongue. “It’s not cute to seem overeager. We’ll be in touch soon.” Fidgeting with whatever device he’s using, he takes one last glance at her and winks. “Oh, and call me Link.”

The screen goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only the first part of what I hope to eventually make into a complete fic (either a long one-shot or a 3-4 parter). Posting for the Febuwhump prompts will likely be sporadic after today.


End file.
